Guardian Angel
by JaneScholar
Summary: When you're running through the darkness, scared as hell, there's the only thing you can rely on - your guardian angel.


Blaine is running. Something huge and roaring is chasing him. He can't really see anything in the darkness but he knows for sure, he has to run as fast as he possibly can. He sees this scary silhouette, and he could swear, he's glimpsed a white blank eye winking at him at some point. Blaine isn't scared, no. He is awfully terrified. He has a strong feeling, he needs to find somebody, somebody he can't remember but worries about. Who is that? Somebody from his past, his present? What is his present? What was his past? What's happening to him? Questions won't stop popping up in the young man's head, at some point he thinks it's going to blow up.

- Run, run, run! - is the only thing that keeps flickering in the front of all this stuff in his head like an alarm sign. - Run, you slow son of a dalek! RUN!

He can hear twigs cracking under his feet, the beast screaming and whistling and roaring behind him. He's sensing ocean breeze that's giving him just enough air to breath.

- Run, run, RUN, BLAINE! - shouts his own voice, coming form, it seems, somewhere far away. Or is it his voice? Does he know what his own voice sounds like? What's happening?

Blaine's wearing crimson trousers or may his legs be just bleeding along with his arms and hands? He's tasting salty liquid leaking onto his tongue, are his lips bleeding as well? He keeps running though his eyes are welled up with tears all of a sudden. He keeps running because someone needs him, someone needs him to come and help, to clean and stanch the wounds. He's got just the ribbon of fabric tied around his neck right under the collar of his white shirt torn by many gnarled branches he's been scrambling through. Blaine's so tired of running. He doesn't want to run anymore but he has no other choice.

- Blaine, stop, - a voice says.

But Blaine doesn't. He just can't. He can't afford to surrender to that scary monster almost biting his neck.

- Come on, Blaine! Stop! - the voice sounds a lot higher and even more worried than the first time and Blaine feels the earth shuddering under his feet.

- I can't stop! There's a monster right behind my back! - shouts Blaine, wondering if the voice belongs to God himself or just to one of his angels.

- Blaine, baby, listen to me. There's no monster anywhere, - this time the voice is soft, reassuring, and is it just his exhausted mind, or has God just called him "baby"?

- There is! Can't you see it? I must hurry up! My best f... Ooh, I don't know. Somebody needs help and I just have no other choice but help! - Blaine is panting, his heart is racing but he won't stop moving, nope, never.

- Looks like you're running for your life, but nobody's chasing you, no monster there. - Blaine listens to the voice, this time it sounds calming and very warm and… somewhat cozy? Blaine finally dares to look back and sees... nothing but the black of the night.

- I... is anyone th... there? Hello?... Mr. Beast?... Erm... Mr. Monster... are you there? Sir...? - Blaine asks shyly, looking around still scared a little.

- Nothing's after you, Blaine, just as I told you. You're absolutely safe, - Blaine feels the warmth spreading all over his body, igniting his tired bones and muscles.

- Are you... God? - whispers Blaine just standing in the middle of nowhere in the darkness, having some voice coming from high above as a companion.

- I am not, - says the voice, and Blaine can perfectly hear such a familiar smile in the very sound of it, - but I believe, I can help you. Describe your surroundings.

- Well, - Blaine says, looking around, staring at the endless darkness. - It's dark in here. The ocean is probably somewhere not far, I can smell the waves. I also smell pineapple. Strange, huh? Is it some kind of a rainforest?

- God knows. Now, concentrate on your senses. You're saying you smell pineapple? Do you like it? - The voice sounds so comforting that Blaine has no intention to resist it.

- Yes. And... yes, - the young man says smiling and inhaling the said sweet smell deeply.

- I know, you do, - and now Blaine can almost see the grin on "God's" face. - Well, let's see, if you can still feel. Close your eyes.

- It's dark.

- I know, but close your eyes, darling, - the voice pauses, letting Blaine roll his eyes and then close them. - Have you?

- Yes, yes, - the brunet says impatiently.

- Well, then...

Blaine's standing his eyes closed, suddenly he can feel the pineapple scent a lot brighter and the next second soft lips pressed to his. Blaine knows the touch and, moreover, he likes it. No. He loves it. He's completely sure, he loves these lips and he's kissed them countless times. He's kissing back, his lips aching of previous biting, and suddenly both pain and tire disappear. One soft touch after another. Again and again. And one more time. The familiar dance. Oh, Blaine loves the dance so much. He loves it so much! He doesn't want the kiss to ever end, but when it does, Blaine opens his eyes slowly and finds himself in his own bed, well, _their _own bed, where he's lying next to his wonderful husband, whose worried face is the first thing Blaine sees after he opens his eyes.

- Blaine, darling, are you alright? You were biting your beautiful lips, crying, tossing and turning, - the blue eyes aren't blinking, looking right at the hazel ones.

- Kurt, - Blaine says quietly, his voice still sleepy, - I thought... I thought you were God.

- Yeah, I got that. Stop biting these lovely lips of yours, you'll make me a vampire one day, - smiles Kurt, realising, that Blaine's feeling better and frowns again, saying, - What was it about this time?

- No idea. I heard some roaring noise but that must've been the city living its life. I was running away from a monster in the dark tropical forest. It might be tropical because of my favourite balm on your lips, - says Blaine, letting his husband embrace him. - But where did the ocean come from?

- Oh, that must be the new air freshener we got last week. So, you're feeling better now, right? - Kurt kisses curls on the top of Blaine's head.

- Much, actually. Thanks for leading me out of it, baby. You'll always be my light at the end of the tunnel.

- I love you, Blaine.

- I love you, too, Kurt, - Blaine says, kissing his husband's pineappled lips, and immediately falls back asleep, breathing in Kurt's neck. He's calm now; Kurt's holding him close, guarding his sleep. Blaine's been having occasional dreadful dreams for over a year while his husband's been breaking his back to find the right treatment, but it seems, the best way to fight these terrible nightmares, considering the fact that Blaine talks rather distinctly in his sleep, is to participate in them, being Blaine's guide or a guardian angel, and this is what Kurt's been for several years by now and will be until his dying day.


End file.
